No More Holes in the Wall
by Stone Moss
Summary: I couldn't come to anybody about my little…issue. If I told any of the Cahills, they would think I'm a bigger idiot then I already am. I could already see some of their faces, giving me that are-you-really-that-stupid look. Apparently, yes.


**No More Holes in the Wall**

I banged my fist on the table and it smashed it half. I didn't care at the moment. I was so frustrated that I couldn't think straight.

Let me take that back, I can _never _think straight.

I looked back at my crumpled homework on the floor. I just…just couldn't understand it!

I couldn't understand anything. School, writing, reading, and worst of all…math.

I straightened out the wrinkles on the paper and focused on problem number three. I had been working on this for the past hour. I narrowed my eyes at the equation. The numbers jumped around on the page and switched places. Before long, I became dizzy. I crumpled it up again and I threw it at the wall.

Was this normal? Did everyone deal with this problem?

I couldn't come to anybody about my little…issue. If I told any of the Cahills, they would think I'm a bigger idiot then I already am. I could already see some of their faces, giving me that are-you-really-that-stupid look.

Apparently, yes.

Stupid genes.

I just _had _to get stuck with the stupid branch. Yes, I couldn't deny that our branch was not the brightest. I would rather be a Lucian.

I couldn't go to my family for help, either. They would just say something along the lines of:

"_Maybe if you play some football, it will clear your mind."_

I frowned. If I couldn't keep my grades up, I wouldn't be able to play football for my school. I punched my wall in aggravation. It left a good-sized hole in its place. I took a look around the room. My room was covered in these holes.

Why couldn't I understand this like everyone else?

…**F.A.I.L.U.R.E. I.S. A. W.E.A.K.N.E.S.S…**

"Hamilton? May I talk to you after class?"

I heard a few snickers near the back of the room. I dropped my head and nodded. This was not my normal behavior. I would've usually pounded those people to a pulp, but I wasn't in the mood.

"Alright, now back to our lesson…"

I didn't bother listening. I wouldn't be able to understand what the teacher was talking about anyway. Pretty soon, the bell had rung and students filed out of the classroom. I lagged behind, gathering my materials. I heard the clicks of the teacher's heels as she walked up to me. I looked down at her and she held up a piece of paper.

I sighed. There was a big, fat, red, 'F' on the left side of the paper. At least that was _something _that I could read.

"Can you explain this?" she asked.

I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to be sorted out from the rest of the students. "No, Ma'am," I mumbled, looking at my purple sneakers.

"I see. Do you know what this means, Hamilton?"

I had an inkling of a thought of what she is going to say.

"You are failing my class. You can no longer play sports."

And bingo…

She must've seen my devastated expression. "I'm sorry, Hamilton, but you must keep an average above a seventy-seven in every class if you want to continue in playing football. How about tutoring?"

I would _never _go to tutoring. I would make myself look like an even bigger idiot. "I'll think about it," I said, not wanting her to ask any more questions.

"Is there something wrong? You've been acting a little put out for a while now. Is there something you're not telling me about?" she asked.

"Not at all, Ma'am. Everything is perfectly fine."

As if…

…**E.K.A.T.E.R.I.N.A…**

I couldn't break the news to my dad. He would surely punish me for getting kicked off the team. I took the letter in my hand and concentrated on it. I got kicked of the football team because of my grades, blah, blah, blah.

I couldn't read the rest though. It looked like a sea of letters that were constantly moving. I tried focusing on a sentence and I soon got a headache.

This would have to stop soon.

Maybe I would grow out of it?

I couldn't wait that long, though. I had to immediately get some help. Who could help me, though? I cancelled out all of the people at school. The students would unquestionably make fun of me. I couldn't go running to the teachers either. That would get me an even worse reputation.

A Cahill, maybe?

Then a thought struck me. Why not ask a person who already _knew_ I was an idiot? I grabbed my phone off the table and dialed the number.

"Sinead Starling."

"Hey, Sinead. It's Hamilton. I need some help with something…"

…**D.I.S.E.A.S.E.D…**

"Dyslexia?" I asked, perplexed. I had a disease?

"Yes, now I need you to read this sentence," Sinead said.

She had lost most of her bratty attitude when I started to tell her about what happens when I read. Sinead held up a piece of paper.

"I have no idea," I answered truthfully.

"I see. You most certainly have dyslexia," she said, nodding.

"And that is…?" I motioned for her to continue.

"It's a learning disability where when people read, the letters get jumbled on the page and the person can't make sense of them. This leads to lack of understanding in education," Sinead informed me.

"That sounds about right," I grumbled. "Is there a…cure?"

I hated saying that. It made me feel crippled and weak. A Tomas with a learning disability. How many people would laugh at that?

Too many…

"Sadly, no. I can help you progress, though. I took a few courses in the special educational field," she said.

_Special _education?

"If it will get me back on the football of team," I mumbled.

"Great, let's get started."

…**A. S.U.R.P.R.I.S.I.N.G. T.U.R.N. O.F. E.V.E.N.T.S…**

"Hamilton, may I see to you after class?"

The same thing happened every time. A couple of people laughed in the background and I grudgingly agreed. I thought I had done well on this test! I slumped in my seat. When the bell rang, I made no move to leave. I had learned the routine by now. I stared down at my desk, waiting for the news.

"Can you tell me what this is?" I heard my teacher ask.

"No-" I looked up.

Something was different about this paper. It was lacking the mass of red slashes and the 'F' in the corner. Instead of the usual grade, a new one rested neatly in the corner.

There was a big, blue 'B'.

I had gotten a 'B'.

I grinned. "Yes, Ma'am. That's the best grade I have gotten so far this semester."

Thank you, Starling.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Another random one-shot. Either way, I hope you enjoyed it! I liked writing this. Hamilton's point of view is rather peculiar to write from. I liked the change, though. Review and tell me how I did! This was called No More Holes in the Wall because, well...he wasn't frustrated anymore, so he didn't punch his wall, therefore stopping the holes in the wall. I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~Nataliya**


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